


Lessons from 3IT

by AlynnaStrong



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 68th Hunger Games, Canon-Typical Violence, District 3 (Hunger Games), Eating Disorders, F/F, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: District 3 has endured much suffering due to its history of being the thought leaders behind the rebellion.  It's hard to keep good nerds down, however.  Three's own method of preparing for the Games differs from that of other districts.  Jaqui Florey, tribute for the 68th Games, will explore their effectiveness first hand.  The main challenge?  You can't plan for everything.





	1. Question Everything

“School’s the other way, Mom,” Jaqui said. Her mom was more absent-minded that usual today. School had barely gotten started for the year and she was eager to find out what 5th grade had to offer. Hopefully a more challenging experience than 4th grade.

“I know, but we need to talk. I thought we’d stop for breakfast this morning.” She led them into a cheerfully lit café. It was the sort of place she usually walked by and muttered about wasting money. Coffee there cost ten times what it would to make at home, and all the pastries were nutrition-less empty calories. Jaqui was going to protest out loud, but then saw they had orange juice and changed her mind. 

After ordering their treats – coffee and a doughnut for mom, orange juice and something flaky and delicious-looking for Jaqui – they sat down. 

“What’s going on Mom? Did you get a promotion?” Fantasies of moving out of their cramped apartment danced in Jaqui’s mind. Maybe a house, with a yard. More realistically, even another apartment in a different part of town that didn’t smell like ozone all the time would be fine. Her father had died five years ago from acute leukemia. The district had refused their worker’s compensation claims on the grounds that they couldn’t prove any of the chemicals he’d handled on a daily basis had caused it. They hadn't resorted to tesserae yet, but sometimes Jaqui wondered if she should sign up without telling her mother.

“No promotion, Jaqui, but I did get this.” She passed her daughter a letter printed on official District 3 stationery. The envelope was an arresting scarlet color with an elaborate silver seal. 

“Guess they didn’t want you to miss it, huh?” Jaqui removed the letter and read:

> Dear Ms. Anna Florey, 
> 
> We are pleased to inform you that your child, Jaquiline Florey, was one of the top score earners in the most recent administration of the district-wide assessment of elementary school students. You must be very proud of her achievements.
> 
> In recognition of her ability, she is to immediately transfer from her present school to the Integrated Studies Group at the District 3 Institute of Technology. Orientation will take place on Friday, September 3rd, with classes to begin the following Monday. There is no fee for participating in the program. All her materials as well as room and board will be paid by the District.
> 
> This is a compulsory order.
> 
> Attached is a list of items students are encouraged to bring once she takes up residence on Monday. We look forward to meeting Jaquiline and are sure she will be a great success in the program. 
> 
> Best wishes,  
>  Whitaker Stratton  
>  ISG Coordinator, 3IT

“Wow! This sounds awesome.” Jaqui had always known she was at the top of her class, but seeing that she was near the top of all District 3 was too much. “I get to take classes at the Institute? Like, real classes?”

“Yes, that’s what it sounds like.” Her mother seemed subdued for some reason. 

“It’s awesome!” Jaqui repeated. “Hey, do you remember the night before the test? You made me watch that old movie with you. We were up so late, and then we had to rush the next morning. I even had to skip breakfast. I was worried I was going to do badly!”

“Right,” Anna said. She looked like she might cry. Something was wrong. “There’s no stopping you though, huh?” She forced a smile. “Eat. It cost a fortune.”

 

They arrived at the Institute right on time. Jaqui had wanted to rush, and her mom had gone slow, so it evened out. Everything was huge and fast. Giant granite buildings with towering columns dominated the area. Adult students whizzed by on bicycles. There was an buzzing aliveness to the place where so much of the district was in shades of grey.

They entered the main building. Inside was a vast open space with three stories of balconies, culminating in a solid dome. There were banners announcing parties or meeting or elections everywhere, hanging from the balconies, tacked to pillars or even walls. Anna consulted a map included with the letter and led them down a corridor to an office. 

Inside, three kids Jaqui’s age sat quietly, watching a university student. Anna held up the letter and announced, “This is Jaquiline Florey.” The student approached Jaqui with a DNA scanner. Jaqui had seen them used at every reaping ceremony, but she’d never had to submit before. Next year she’d be twelve, and fair game, but for another year she was safe. The woman drew a drop of her blood, the machine beeped, and she nodded.

“Thanks,” she told Anna with little enthusiasm. “You can go. She’ll be done around 5; you can pick her up when you get off work.” Summarily dismissed, Anna shuffled out. Jaqui barely registered it. She took her place with her peers.

The university student closed the door and turned to her audience of four. Jaqui supposed she understood why she looked annoyed. She probably had projects to work on that were way cooler than talking to a bunch of little kids. 

“Okay boys and girls, let’s get started”, she said. “You are the smartest 11 year olds in District 3. Congratulations. For your hard work, you get to be enrolled in the Integrated Studies Group here at the Institute. We call it Bootstrap because what we’re going to do is bring you up to the university curriculum level in one year. That means you’ll be skipping middle school and getting high school force fed to you at 4 times normal speed. By this time next year, you’ll be ready to enroll in the Institute and take classes with the real students.

“The program is residential. You’ll each have your own room in a suite in one of the newer dorms. You’ll have some help at the beginning with laundry and things like that, but seriously, if you’re smart enough to be here, you won’t need help for long. You’ll also have a special seminar twice a week where you can discuss whatever’s on your mind related to the program.”

A short boy with dark, straight hair raised his hand. “Are you in the program?”

She scowled. “For one more year. Then I’m done; one way or the other. Listen up kids, because this is not like the school you just left. For the first time in your life, you’re going to find yourselves challenged by your classes. You’ll discover that it’s possible to study for subjects like math, that have probably felt intuitive to you so far. You may be awake so long you hallucinate. You’ll fall asleep whenever and wherever you can. Your brain will actually feel sprained sometimes. But keep at it. There are consequences for failure.”

The dark-haired boy’s hand shot up again. “Is this about the Hunger Games?” he croaked. The other kids pivoted to stare at him. Jaqui thought it must be a joke at first, but he’d turned so pale he looked like he might pass out. His gaze kept bouncing from the instructor to the door like he was contemplating making a run for it.

“Joy to the world, a clue is born. Yes, this program is all about the Hunger Games. Of course it is. District 3 doesn’t have a career academy like 1 and 2 – and whatever piddly little thing they have in 4. Nothing we do in 3 lends itself to physical development. However, we do have the best university, and I dare say the best brains in Panem. So this is how we give ourselves an advantage. You’ll train here until you compete or age out.”

Three hands shot up, including Jaqui’s. 

“You’re about to say you don’t want to compete. Yeah, tough, who does? You will anyway, first for class rank and then, probably, for the greater glory of your district. There are 10 slots in the post-Bootstrap Program. See how there are four of you, but two are chosen for the Games? To make room, the two with the lowest class rank are cut each year. They go to an outer district, along with their families. So ask yourselves if you’d rather live in the lap of luxury – District 3 style anyway – or shovel shit with your parents in 10 for the rest of your lives.”

Jaqui shook her head and blurted out, “I’ve watched the Reapings. Three doesn’t have volunteers, ever.”

“Well, it’s true that the kids themselves don’t volunteer, but it’s decided for them, by the Committee on Academic Performance. If they choose you, your name goes in the bowl. Only your name. Thousands of little slips of paper, only one name.” She favored them with a grim smile. “Who do you think writes the code that generates the slips? Or the one that approves district transfers? Three is more powerful than people think. 

"So, If you go all the way through, you’ll be here 8 years. That’s a long time. There’s a lot of turnover. We try not to get too attached. A lot of the time you’ll be called by your class rank, but choose an A-Z letter for yourself. Some go with an initial, but do what you want, except for M or F; those are taken.

"I’m F, by the way. ‘Female tribute’. Me and M already know what’s coming for us this summer. So good luck. Oh, and kids? If you’re going to kill yourselves, do it tonight. It sucks to try to replace someone who was in Bootstrap. And when you get older,” she flashed them forearms with freshly healed vertical slashes, “they watch you like a hawk.”

 

Since Bootstrap started on Monday, Jaqui spent the weekend packing, unpacking, and repacking. She had school materials, clothes, and bedding, of course, but she refused to take anything sentimental along. Her mother had suggested something from home would help if she was homesick, but Jaqui didn’t think that would be a problem. She was too excited about the future. Three was poor, especially her area. She’d never expected to able to go to any university, much less 3IT. She’d resigned herself to a technician’s job like her mother’s. Now she was being offered the chance for accelerated learning under the best teachers in all of Panem. It was impossible not to be grateful. 

Anna knew that Jaqui had the youthful tendency not to realize that the future would come for her as well. She knew that 8 years can pass in the blink of an eye, and that one of these days she may be watching her only child mount the Reaping stage. She’d never asked for an exceptional child, just healthy, that’s all she’d wanted. Jaqui’s mind had been amazing and scaring her since she was a toddler. Louis had been so much better at encouraging her gifts. Anna had always had an inchoate fear that sometime a bill would come due. Now it had, and it’s cost was exactly what she’d dreaded the most.

Monday was spent in a blur of completing paperwork, moving into her housing, getting a tracker imbedded in her wrist, ID photos, and computer access controls. Jaqui was told that in addition to tracking her location, the chip in her wrist could be used to pay for any food or supplies she needed. The accounts are audited, though, she was warned, so don’t go crazy.

Jaqui chose J to represent herself, feeling like it was something she could get used to. It was almost a nickname. The boy who’d asked so many questions last Friday hissed at her, “You stole my letter,” but there was nothing he could do about it. He chose X instead. The other girl went with R, and the other boy with K. J felt a totally undeserved pride that she’d be first, at least alphabetically. 

J, K, R, and X were housed in a suite of four rooms in the dorm nearest the center of campus. They had their own entry lock that none of the older kids could access as well as a small kitchen and lounge for themselves. Their individual rooms were tiny, but the lounge was quite nice; a non-subtle hint against isolation. 

The Bootstrap class schedule was a thing to behold. They had a year to cover all of algebra, geometry, trigonometry, and pre-calculus for the math unit. Physical science was two years worth of chemistry and two of physics. Four years of biology with additional units on flora, fauna, and first aid. English and history didn’t have to be condensed as much, but were still on the menu, as was music, oddly. “We find the arts provide an outlet for stress, and music also seems to stimulate mathematical ability,” they were told.

Being part of a class of four was an entirely different experience from her large public school. There, you could get lost if you felt like it. If you didn’t want to show off, you didn’t usually have to; someone else would answer the question. Eventually, of course, everyone knew who aced all the tests, but as long as you kept you head down and didn’t ask for extra assignments or anything completely foolish like that, you were left alone. 

Here, the classes were more like private tutoring than lectures. As often as not, the instructor would set up a problem on the board and ask questions rather than provide answers. “What do you think happens to blood pressure when a limb is removed? That’s correct, it rises, but why?” “Yes, you could solve the proof that way, but what’s wrong with this way?” It was frustrating at first, but soon J began to appreciate the engagement this caused for her mind. In her old school, lectures had been boring lists of facts. Here they were solutions. They were even debatable. It felt like waking up.

Seminar was the one class taught by a group member rather than a professor. Sometimes it was F; sometimes M; sometimes plain-spoken, serious C (who was usually called One, as she’d held that rank for two years now). J’s favorite was L, who was only fourteen but had embraced the program with gusto. She told them the truth, stripped of sentimentality but still full of optimism. 

“Do you understand why they take our names?” L asked.

“To keep us from getting attached,” R answered. She was good at memorizing information but not a very creative thinker, it was becoming clear.

“Yes, but what does that mean?”

“So we don’t have anything to hold us back if we’re chosen?” X asked.

“Anyone else?”

“To remind us to-“ K started his answer before having anything to say. “Keep thinking?” he amended.

“That’s actually not bad. J?”

J scrambled to put it together from that hint. “To keep our minds flexible?”

“Very good. Don’t get tied up in a name. This is a pencil.” She changed her hold. “Now it’s a knife.” She broke it. “Now it’s kindling. Do you see? There may be a time you’ll need to strip everything you have down to its basic nature. It works with you too. You,” she pointed at J, “are not a sweet little redhead from the projects. You have multitudes inside you. Don’t forget.”

 

* * *

****

**The 68th Hunger Games**

* * *

 

F stood with the other reaping-aged kids. She was eighteen and knew beyond a doubt that no other girl had anything to fear today. Her name was the only one in the oversized glass bowl. She’d been at the Institute for far too long to believe that they could have screwed that up.

“First the girls,” the escort said. She called herself Quanta Quartz, what a stupid name. Maybe F was feeling a little bitter.

“Jaquiline Florey.”

Jaqui – she was Jaqui again for the first time in eight years – mounted the stage. She stared straight ahead, calm, level-headed, unflappable, unimpressed, just like they’d taught her. Sometimes they were told to act weak or scared, but not this year. Good.

The escort squeezed her shoulder in encouragement as she stepped back up to call the boy.

“Brian Matthews”

Jaqui tried to stifle a smile as she realized she hadn’t even known M’s name. He’d been B for the last six years. Brian, almost brain, who would have guessed? In the replays, her brief smile will be described as enigmatic and a romance or rivalry will be speculated about. For his part, Brian is also stoic. He had gotten all his rage out when he was chosen M. It’s true he was only sixteen, but that’s what you get when you’re ranked number one so near your expiration date. Jaqui had taken pains to keep herself at rank seven for years. They’d figured it out in the end, though.

Only Jaqui’s mother came to the Justice Building to visit. They hadn’t seen each other much more than the standard holiday vacations since Jaqui entered the program. Jaqui had meant to drop in more often when she was an upperclassman, but there was always some other project that more urgently demanded her time. Also, and she hated to admit it, but their visits were boring. Anna didn’t have anything interesting to talk about, and she didn’t care about science, so there wasn’t much to do. Even now, there wasn’t much to say. She did eventually engulf Jaqui in a long embrace. 

“I didn’t get a very good hug when I dropped you off last time. I even forgot to say ‘I love you’, I was so sad. I’m not making that mistake again. I love you, baby girl. Please come home.”

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll try.” It sounded robotic to Jaqui’s ears, but if her mom thought so she didn’t let on. They hugged silently until the peacekeepers escorted her away.

 

Their mentors were waiting for them on the train. Jaqui’s was to be Wiress, which was a mixed bag. She was so eccentric that she approached unintelligible, but she was probably the cleverest person at the Institute. She had a slippery way of thinking around problems and coming up with innovative solutions. She would be backed up by Lin, their most recent victor, which counted as a huge win in Jaqui’s book. She’d always liked Lin; she was encouraging, charismatic, and sane. 

Brian was to be mentored by Beetee who was a technical genius and all around ruthless competitor. Jaqui wondered for the first time if she was going to have to worry about her district-mate in addition to the Careers. Brian was two years younger and they hadn’t spent much non-program time together at all.

They were only a few hours from the Capitol by train, so there wasn’t much time to talk about strategy. Still, you’d have thought there would be some. Wiress and Beetee had always seemed friendly at the Institute, but they were each in their own worlds now. Jaqui called Lin over.

“Whose tribute were you,” she asked, “Wiress or Beetee?”

“Wiress. And my year she didn't have anyone to help her behind the scenes. So don't worry, we can do this.”

“She's not too out there? I mean, I really respect her...”

“But she's crazy. Don't worry, it won't be a problem. You're a lot like her, anyway, so I figure you two will get along.”

“Me? I'm not-”

“Oh please. You're a physics major with an art minor. If you were any more primed for crazy, you'd already have a Lithiol implant.”

“I did a major in mechanical engineering, too.”

“Because I made you; to learn how to build things. And your robots still looked demented.”

“They worked.”

“You gave them faces!” Lin threw up her hands. There was really no point in trying to talk scientists out of being...the way they are. Lin was a engineer through and through; much more like Beetee, really. She regretted the outburst, though. This was probably not the way you were supposed to speak to a Tribute. Since her win, Lin had worked unofficially supporting the program. This was the first year she'd been assigned to directly support one Tribute over the other. She would have chosen Jaqui over Brian anyway, she realized. Jaqui had an intensity to her, an inner fuel that kept her going beyond all reason. Brian would do what was expected of him. Jaqui would do anything. Lin knew where the smart money was there.

 

Their rooms at the Training Center were the opposite of their suites at the Institute. They featured large, well-appointed bedrooms and private bathrooms. The lounge area was large too, but it was chilly and overly formal. It didn’t feel like it was really meant for socializing. 

They all ate dinner together and watched the day’s Reaping reports. The crop seemed within normal bounds. Prime fighting condition volunteers from 1, 2, and 4, a mixed bag from the middle, and rustic, skinny kids from the outer. 

“What we expected,” Beetee said briskly. “Get some sleep; it’s an important to make a good first impression.”

Lin followed Jaqui into her room. “Don’t believe him,” she said. “He’s going to be crunching numbers all night, coming up with the best allies. It will be interesting to see whether he shares them with us. We're not going to bother with all that. Your goal is to get in with the Career pack. It's like the Spanish opening in chess; a predictable strategy that totally works if you can pull it off. Wiress says the first step is to wear your hair down.”

Jaqui stepped into the training area with her long, coppery locks unbraided for the first time since before she was reaped. She immediately attracted a lot of attention. The Gamemakers noticed her, and so did many of the tributes. The boy from 1 and the girl from 2 each approached her to ask if she’d like to train with them. Jaqui knew better than to let them see her spar, but she wasn’t terrible with short spear and bow. It was a foot in the door, and she was quite proud of herself.

The atmosphere on the third floor was chilly when she entered. Brian was glowering at the dining room table and Beetee wasn’t doing a much better job concealing his contempt. Wiress and Lin looked frustrated. 

“What happened here?” Jaqui asked. “I had a pretty good day, myself.”

“Oh, we saw you,” Brian began. Beetee silenced him with a look.

“It appears,” Beetee said, “that you are looking for allies. Brian and I were looking at the 3-only strategy. If you feel others are a better fit for you talents, that’s your right.”

Wiress sent Lin, Brian, and Jaqui to their rooms like they were children so that she could talk to Beetee. Straining her ears, Jaqui could only make out the occasional word in their argument. They were clearly arguing, though. What came through most distinctly was Wiress yelling “Not yet!” at the end. Super-weird. And even weirder, by the next morning it all seemed behind them. They agreed they’ll proceed with these games ‘like any other.’ 

 

Jaqui concentrated on making herself indispensable for the next two days. When the girl from 1 dislocated her finger, Jaqui was there to fix it before they could even summon a medic. She mentioned all the work she'd done in mechanical design and advanced biology. She even insinuated that she was training for medical school, which wasn't a bluff she could back up terribly well if called.

“What do you think about your district partner,” 2F had asked near the end of the third day. Jaqui felt like she had nearly eased her way into the pack; she just had to avoid any pitfalls. She’d started to notice phrases like ‘pet 3’ bandied around when they didn’t think she could hear.

“He’s very snobby, honestly. I don’t think he likes me. I hope I don’t have to depend on him as an ally.”

“Well, that’s just it,” said 2F, “we’ve been talking and we think you might be good to have around. At least while we scope out the arena. If you can get to the Cornucopia, we’ll keep you safe. We’ll have a look around, see what we’re dealing with. If there’s nothing you can help with, we’ll give you a sporting chance to get away. Probably though, we’ll benefit from having you around. I mean, it won’t last forever, but you know that.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m in,” Jaqui said, wondering if there was some protocol for this.

“Good. Tell your mentor,” 2F smiled, “I’m Lindsay.”

“Jaqui.”


	2. Midnight Requisition

District 3 did not win the Hunger Games last year. The new M and F were chosen via some closely guarded formula the Program kids continually tried to reverse engineer. The small group gathered to review their schedules before the semester began.

“J, you're rank 7. A fine score. Now keep it,” said L, cheerful as always (of course, she was quite secure at rank three). Of the other Bootstrap graduates, K was eighth, R was ninth…

“Where’s X?” J asked. X was smart, maybe smarter than she was. There was no way he’d flunked out.

“Good news there,” said C (how was she still ranked one and not chosen as F? Another data point for the algorithm, J noted). “The Reaping was moved up a few days this year, to before his birthday, so he’d still be eleven and ineligible. They’re going to give him an extra year of Bootstrap, and only take three newbies. That way, there’s only one cut. It’s good; cuts are wasteful. Even someone ranked twelfth deserves better than mining coal or cutting fabric.”

J felt that was insulting. There were probably plenty of smart people in the other districts who never had a chance to show it. But far be it from her to argue with One, especially when she had a new course list to inspect. This year, she was to take two semesters of physics, two of calculus, inorganic then organic chemistry, general biology then molecular biology, and a term each of 21-ch.

“What is 21-ch?” she asked.

“That stands for choice. Your choice of a course 21 class. The squishy subjects. You know, art, history, literature, that kind of thing. They used to recommended everyone take a foreign language so you could talk privately in the arena, but the Capitol doesn’t allow those to be taught anymore. So, it’s your choice, ask around if you’d like some advice.”

Choice. J hadn't had that for a while. She decided to go with Visual Art and then Panem History. One seemed fun and the other something she’d really better know cold.

“As usual, everyone has Special Topics Seminar twice a week for Games-related training. PE requirements too, don’t forget, two a term. I’d avoid team sports and go for running, swimming, archery, you know, potentially useful things.”

J soon found out that the regular 3IT curriculum was so much easier than Bootstrap that it felt like a joke. The science and math classes were review, at least for a while, and the art class was far too fun to count as work. She was getting regular sleep. She even had some free time. It felt bizarre.

J started to look for some less academic ways to spend her time, and in the process made some interesting new friends. Previously, she’d felt that Program kids were held at a distance by the general student body. They were too young for some things and so likely too die that people didn’t want to get attached. However, she found a group that appreciated her for her fearlessness, if nothing else – the Urban Spelunkers Club. With them, she traveled through the steam tunnels, squeezed into ‘tombs’ (dead spaces between the walls), and found her way onto rooftops. Having a 12 year old around could be very handy if you needed to get through grates designed to block adults.

By the end of the year, she had her own (highly illegal) electronic card cloner as well as a set of lock picks made from spring steel off the street sweeping trucks, and she knew how to use them. She’d done well in all her classes, regularly beating the scores of most of the 18 year old freshmen. Somehow, despite the circumstances, she’d thoroughly fallen in love with 3IT. She took her exams and never considered dogging them, never considered that any life in an outer district may be preferable to the high probability of death inherent in staying here. She would remain in the Program because to fail would mean leaving 3IT, and she still had so much she wanted to learn.

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

Their three days of training culminated in evaluation by the Gamemakers. Jaqui was disappointed, but not surprised, to learn that Wiress had no advice for her. “It doesn't matter. They’ll not hear the music for the song,” she’d said. Lin translated that to mean that they don’t know how to evaluate her abilities so try to impress on something intellectual while not looking hopeless on weapons. So long as she didn’t score too low, they have something to work with for sponsors.

Jaqui recited lists of edible plants and their descriptions, identified some markers for poison, and eventually manage to hit around 75% of her archery targets. At least they were still paying attention this early in the line up, but she didn’t think she’d really grabbed them. Of course, coming after 1 and 2, their expectations would have been unreasonably high. Both Jaqui and Brian received 7s. Jaqui was fine with it; Brian sulked. (Though it was hard to distinguish his reaction from his general attitude these days).

They were sent to the stylists in preparation for their interviews. “Thank Snow we have something to work with this year,” Jaqui's team had gushed. They wanted to go with a femme fatal concept. Jaqui pushed back saying that going for sexy is okay, but she didn’t want to play a character. She’d never managed better than ‘Acceptable’ in the acting classes that were part of her special seminars. At least she gave them long, copper-bright hair and big grey eyes. Brian’s stylist must be pulling her feathers out.

Jaqui resolved to answer her interview questions as truthfully as she could, playing against the stereotype of District 3 tributes being clever but duplicitous. When Caesar asked how she liked the Capitol, she’d said it was marvelous and she was glad to see 3’s technology put to such wide-spread use. That elicited a mix of surprised laughter and hisses. That was fine; “Etch their minds,” Wires had said, eyes shining. “Be memorable,” Lin clarified, and then with a concerned expression, led Wiress off for a rest. Jaqui chose to interpret that favorably. Wiress wouldn’t be getting stressed out so early if she’d hadn’t been working hard for the win. Right?

“How did you feel when your name was chosen,” Caesar asking, trying to quiet the audience.

“I was glad it was me rather than someone who couldn’t have won. I think I'll bring it home this year,” she kept her voice matter of fact. Let them think she’d genuinely calculated the odds.

“Love that confidence! Any hints on your strategy for the Arena?” Caesar asked.

“All I can say is that I’m smarter, quicker, and stronger than you probably think.”

“Oh, we know you’re smart,’ Caesar tried to flatter.

“Even smarter than that,” she’d said and winked for the cameras. And with perfect timing (thank you chronosense training), her three minutes were up.

Brian’s interview went terribly, in her opinion. They were styling him as a master of stealth and survival skills. He did have the skills, and his appearance really was forgettable, but it was an odd look on him. They’d dressed him in greys and blacks with hollowed eyed makeup that made him look skinnier and weaker, rather than hiding his flaws. He’d come off as angry and nearly crossed the line into challenging the fairness of the Games since not all districts had equal facilities. What a weird, bitter death spiral he seemed to be in.

The last night before the Games began, Wiress and Lin talked with her about sponsors, and gifts, and hints; what they could and couldn’t tell her. They warned her about how to watch for signs the pack was about to break up and how to get out safely. Jaqui didn't bother asking about Brian, having learned by now that they'd demur any insights into his strategy. Finally Lin offered her something to help her sleep, but Jaqui refused. She had one more thing to do tonight.

Jaqui knew she couldn’t rely heavily on her stealth skills in natural settings, but after years of hacking the Institute, she was hard to beat indoors. Once she’d heard the mentors retire for the night, she snuck out of her room and used the pass she’d cloned from their Avox to exit the suite. She crept down the stairs to the second floor.

As expected, her Avox’s pass didn’t work on the door to suite 2. However, the doors had manual overrides, and she’d brought her lockpicks. (She’d intended to bring them into the Arena disguised as earrings, but they’d been banned as potential weapons. That was BS, but it’s not like there were usually locks in the Arena anyway). The door hissed open and she flattened herself against the wall. All she needed was the room to be full of 2s in the midst of a all-night tactical planning session. Fortunately, the lounge was dark. They must be resting up for what, for 2s, is practically guaranteed to be a long week.

The last (second to last) obstacle was figuring out which room was Lindsay’s. The layout looked the same, so 50/50 chance. Both 2s were big, but the boy was faster. He’d want the room closest to the main door so he could be up and ready first, and he didn’t seem the type to defer to Lindsay because she was a girl. Jaqui made her way to the far room like she was walking on dry leaves. The door was unlocked, so she slipped though and closed it behind her. Here’s hoping she was right.

Lindsay lay in bed, her long, chestnut hair free of its usual ponytail. When she heard her door open, she snapped awake.

“Jaqui?” she asked, astonished. “How did you get here?”

Jaqui flashed her electronic device. “Cloned a pass.” She put a finger to her lips in a shh gesture.

“What if they catch you? Can you…get out of the building?”

“What are they going to do – ban me from the Arena? And no, I don’t think the one I cloned has the key to the front door, never mind that it’s not an invisibility cloak. There’s all sorts of security between here and freedom.”

“Well, why are you here? It’s a big risk, I don’t care what you say. If my mentor caught you, he’d bounce you off the force field a few times at a minimum.”

“I wanted to ask a favor.” Lindsay seemed ready to object. “It has nothing to do with tomorrow. Nothing. Well, not nothing, but nothing I need tomorrow.” Okay, Jaqui, some nerves can be charming, but reel it in, she told herself.

“I appreciate how you’ve made me part of the Pack. It gives me much better odds of living for a few more days anyway. But a lot can happen just on the way to the Cornucopia. There could be traps or mutts in the way, someone could throw a knife into my back, my platform could detonate. Anything.”

“Sure, but that’s true for all of us. Don’t let yourself think about it.”

“I’m a virgin.”

Lindsey was speechless. Now was that a good or bad sign?

“So, having no guarantee of a tomorrow is bothering me. I just want one less thing to regret not doing.”

“Why me?”

“I like you best.”

Jaqui saw Lindsay’s eyes change when she made up her mind. “First thing, your sweet talk needs some work.” She opened her arms and invited her closer.


	3. Drink from the Firehose

District 3 did not win the Hunger Games the previous year. J found that her classes were getting harder and took more of her time again. Program kids didn't officially earn degrees, but if they survived 'adjustments would be make', she was assured. She decided to concentrate first in physics, since it really was the underpinning of everything else. Most Program kids went with a more practical engineering major, but there'd be time for that later.

J's first inkling that the 3IT community had some rebellious sympathies came in 9.00, Introduction to Psychology, her humanities class for the semester. The professor had said they didn't need to come to the last class that month as he wouldn't be there. Bemused, she'd brought up the matter in seminar.

“So how does he know he's going to be sick? I mean, if he's planning a vacation, shouldn't he do it over the summer?”

L grinned. “It's Yom Kippur. He always takes the day off.” Seeing J's confusion she continued, “It's a religious holiday. He has to rest to show his faith in God.”

“There is no God, only the law as presented by the President,” J recited from her elementary school loyalty oath.

“Fuck Snow in his puckered asshole,” shouted M, usually a serious boy with little to say.

“Only if you want to get blood poisoning,” retorted X, who had successfully tested into the Program this year and was running in many of the same circles as J.

“Enough,” said C (still One, still not chosen). “Take it as a gift, J. It's one less hour to spend in a squishy class.”

There were further examples as the term went on. Her hacking group placed a peacekeeping vehicle on top of the Great Dome, mannequins inside carrying batons smeared with ketchup. During a student choral concert, the lyrics of a chorus had gradually morphed from 'Hell if I know' to 'To Hell with Snow'. Finally, abandoning all subtlety, someone had arranged for the lighted windows of the tallest building on campus to spell “Fuck Snow” after curfew. [ [like this]](http://hacks.mit.edu/Hacks/by_year/2004/redsox_greenspeak/)

J came to realize that almost no one around her – including the professors – favored government policy on practically anything. They wanted increased communication with other nations. More openness for academic disclosures. Less government restrictions on research subjects. Reopened borders. It would be a radically different world, and she couldn't help but question, might it be better?

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

Jaqui found herself more relaxed than she had any reason to be. Sex made you sleepy, but was a good stress reliever, she’d discovered. It took every bit of logic in her brain to overcome the desire to stay with Lindsay. Finally she convinced herself that she’d get both of them in trouble, even if she couldn’t come up with a realistic punishment. She’d crept upstairs and gotten back to sleep right around the time Lin came to wake her up.

Wiress and Lin escorted her to the loading shuttle. There had been no sign of Brian or Beetee this morning; they must have left early on purpose. Lin tried to fit in a few words of last minute advice. “Remember, it’s harder to kill another human than you think. A lot of would-be killer tributes hesitate at the critical second and end up getting killed themselves. I’d advise not even trying until you have no choice. Let your friends do the dirty work.”

Wiress, in turn, gripped her arm and said “eta equals work out over energy in.”

“Got it,” Jaqui said (understanding she meant 'be efficient'). “Be seeing you.”

 

As expected, the Career pack was 1M, 1F, 2M, 2F, 3F, 4M, and 4F, or Onyx, Ivory, Clay, Lindsay, Jaqui, Nemo, and Tempest, as they were known to the public. They all managed to make it to the Cornucopia, though Jaqui fell flat on her face during the run. She'd known her odds of winning were cut in half when she'd seen they had a jungle Arena rather than a city one this year. Still, she'd thought she could run in a straight line without getting her feet tangled in the undergrowth. She could literally watch as it engulfed her legs and proceeded to knot over her hips. Great, _Kudzu pythonicus_ , and her without so much as a knife.

Jaqui felt her shoulder threaten to dislocate as someone hauled her up from the ground. Lindsay. She half-pulled, half-carried Jaqui the rest of the way to the Cornucopia, trailing vines all the way.

They weren't the only ones at the Cornucopia, of course. Every year, middle and outer district kids tried their best (or are sent there by mentors hoping for a swift and merciful end). Eight tributes went down, in such a gut-churning display that Jaqui was sure she'd not feel any hunger tonight. She'd stayed out of the way and tried to keep in mind that here it was good to be on the side of the hardened killers.

When the Capitol anthem played for the evening, and the list of the fallen commenced, Jaqui watched with unease...it wasn't quite right. There were the eight who died in the bloodbath, plus another who had met some misadventure elsewhere.

“I could really use a notebook and pen,” she said. Everyone gave the Cornucopia a once-over, but there was nothing like that around. Soon the pinging up a parachute drifted down her way. She opened it, read the attached note with a scowl, and said, “Thank you.” To her companions, she self-deprecatingly noted, “I figured she’d have that one cued up. It's cheap and Wiress knows I can’t do that kind of math in my head.”

“What’d the note say?” Ivory asked. Suspicious, but she supposed that was warranted.

Jaqui showed them. “9.85. It’s her estimate of how many days she thinks I’ll last, rounded to two decimals places per usual. Thanks Wiress,” she added dripping with sarcasm.

She opened her notebook and started writing down numbers and equations. She asked for confirmation of certain Gamemaker scores and bookmaker odds. When no one could help, she muttered, “No problem, it's only life and death,” and kept calculating. It was important that, in a non-city Arena, she prove her worth as soon as possible.

“Okay,” she finally said, “there’s something off. Taking into account everyone’s odds, the wrong distribution of tributes died today. Too many middle district tributes; not enough outer. The expectation was 7 deaths, 4 from the outer; instead there were 9 total with 3 outer. I only have the first column of the standard normal table memorized, but I can still tell that there’s less than a 5% chance that’s random. I think there’s a second pack, maybe of outer district tributes.”

“I knew something didn’t feel right,” said Onyx.

“Well, I just proved it with math,” replied Jaqui. As she thought about it, a grim suspicion came to mind. “Anyone see my district partner?” It made sense now; he wasn’t pissed at her for deserting him for the Careers. He was pissed that she’d gotten in with the Careers first. They certainly didn’t need two 3s. He must have banded together the outer districts, hoping they had enough outdoors skills to get though. The middle were doomed this year, no relevant skills, no leader.

 

Jaqui ducked her head toward Lindsay. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Lindsay followed her to the far edge of the campfire. “You holding up okay?”

“Yes, absolutely. Definitely better than I’d have done on my own. But, when I was lagging on the way to the Cornucopia, you came back for me. You led me here, so you were way slower than you meant to be. I just wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to do that. You shouldn't, in fact. And to say I was sorry.

“If it has to do with last night, especially.” Jaqui pitched her voice low to keep it from traveling, both to their teammates and any listening microphones. “What I asked for last night was selfish. I didn’t mean to mess up your chances. Don’t think you have to protect me. Don’t even think you can. We knew going in that at best only one of us was walking out.

“If it helps, you can call me Three instead of Jaqui. Maybe depersonalize things a bit. I’m actually kind of used to it.”

“I’d rather not.” Lindsay looked a little hurt.

“Your choice, however you want. Just look out for yourself, okay.” She poked her finger into Lindsay’s thick shoulder, then rose to join the others.

Jaqui tried not to feel dirty. 9.85, the course number for Developmental Cognition. Apparently she hadn’t snuck out of her room as smoothly as she’d thought. She’d taken the point though; the more you tell a child she can’t have something, the more she’ll want it.


	4. Sleep When You're Dead

District 3 did not win the Hunger Games the previous year. C stayed at rank One, of course, but shockingly, a Bootstrapper known as T tested in at rank Two. J (who was Five this year) noticed L shaking her head at that. At first, she thought it was because she pushed L down to Three, but when their eyes met, L mouthed “too fast.” J was suddenly scared for the bright 12 year old. The other Bootstrappers who made it, B and P, seemed to be average, coming in at Eight and Nine.

J had worked her way into the upper level physics classes, including the monstrosity known as Junior Lab. The end of term project was carrying out and designing her own supervised research study. She got a little carried away. The professor pared it back from doctoral level work to something a human being could complete in one term. Even so, J often had to choose between eating and sleeping.

The most embarrassing event of the year was having C send her to the Medical Center for delayed puberty. J was smaller and less developed than most 14-year olds (…and 13 year olds) but she still wished C hadn’t brought it up in seminar. Seems like the kind of thing you’d mention privately.

No one even trusted the Med Center, not since S had gone in for the flu, been taken to an exam room, fallen asleep because: flu, and been left there overnight. They found him the next morning incoherent with fever; he was out of school for over a week. So yeah, J couldn’t wait for them to tweak her hormone levels.

They actually came to the conclusion that J wasn’t eating enough, so she was sent to a nutritionist for a special diet. Well, hard to call it a diet when you’re eating twice as much as everyone else. It worked though, she finally achieved ‘womanhood’. Then they took it away immediately with implanted birth control that also did away with menstruation. At least she gained 4 inches in height over the year.

J kept up with her work by sacrificing the other expendable resource: sleep. Her hacker friends introduced her to Jolt, over-the-counter stimulant pills meant to be taken 2 at a time. By the end of the term, she was downing 8 at once.

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

The Career pack left the Cornucopia after stripping it of anything they could use and cleared a camp site next to the lake. There they had good visibility for the surrounding area and a decent food source in the ample fish. Some small caves nearby could provide shelter from the elements if necessary. They had the best of everything, and yet Jaqui was unnerved that there was another pack roaming around. She wasn't the only one. Onyx demanded she think like her district mate and figure out Brian’s plans.

“My guess is he has five others in his pack. Could be as many as seven but I doubt he bothered with the middle districts. Since he couldn’t have known anything about the Arena going in, I’d say he told his group to avoid the Cornucopia and follow him into cover. If it were me, I’d look for water first, then make it into a defensible position. He trained separately with his mentor the whole time, though, so if they came up with some specific plan, I wouldn’t know about it.”

Searching for the other group was going to be tricky seeing as how the Arena’s gimmick this year was aggressive plant life. In addition to the quick growing kudzu (the Cornucopia was only a vague shape underneath now), there was stranglekelp in the river and triple P (paralyzing purple poison) sap leaking from apparently random trees. They’d even spotted patches of piranha poison ivy, whose highly corrosive leaves could skeletonize anyone unfortunate enough to fall into it.

They split up by district to scout, leaving Jaqui behind to guard the camp site. When they returned, the 1s had killed an unaffiliated straggler but found no clues, the 2s had hunted some game, and the 4s had brought back some scraps from another campsite. The scraps had been hidden, Nemo reported, buried near a poison tree. They consisted of some leaves smeared with sticky resin, pulverized plant matter, and over a dozen parachutes.

Jaqui didn’t know what to make of it, especially the parachutes. What could they have needed so badly as to bankrupt themselves this early in the game? Brian and his allies were from poor districts. None of their scores had showed anyone worthy of serious investment. It had to be a strategy, but Jaqui couldn’t see it.

 

Lindsay was giving her an…interesting look. Jaqui smiled back at her. She’d done her best to not get attached, but being with Lindsay was so delightfully uncomplicated. The Games reminded her of Bootstrap in a way; when her brain would feel like it was melting down. Sometimes then she’d need to read comic books for a while before she could think again. Lindsay was like that. Or comfort food. Or, more honestly than Jaqui really wanted to face, like someone who gave a damn about her and wanted to make her happy. We’d be friends if we were at the Institute together, Jaqui thought. Close friends. Best friends.

 

“Hey, look, she wasn’t killing her after all, no matter how it sounded,” Jaqui heard one of the boys say as she left the privacy of their cave. She’d let Lindsay leave first and might have fallen asleep in spite of herself if she hadn’t smelled dinner cooking.

“If you want to fuck quick and kill slow that’s your business, but I do it the other way around,” Lindsay said, smacking her district partner affectionately (but none too gently) on the back of his head.

“Hope you girls like being on pay per view,” Ivory said, with a hidden twinge of jealousy. It had been a slow day – only one death. Sex was a great way to keep sponsors interested. She should have thought of it.

Lindsay laughed and then looked confused when Jaqui didn’t.

“She’s probably right,” Jaqui said. “We used to hack the encrypted Games feeds at the Institute. We’ll probably make featured coverage, but I don’t know if we’d lead. It was consensual and neither of us are underage, so pretty vanilla by Capitol standards.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Lindsay asked, then corrected herself to “Are you serious?” before Jaqui could say anything sarcastic.

“Yeah, there are cameras everywhere, Lins. Just close your eyes and think of the sponsors.”

None of that conversation aired on the main Hunger Games coverage that evening, but there were some uncomfortable glances traded in the Mentor’s control room which received the unedited feed. Only the mentors from District 1 seemed used to the idea that even Tribute sexuality was for sale these days.

 

After dinner, they drew lots for overnight guard shifts. Jaqui and Onyx were up first. Fearing that a full stomach and dwindling adrenaline might cause her to nod off, Jaqui cracked open her second tribute gift. It had arrived earlier with a note ‘Courtesy of the Urban Spelunkers’ – a full packet of Jolt pills. Sure, it was early enough that gifts weren’t outrageously expensive, and stimulant pills were cheap anyway because jumpy tributes are more amusing than sleepy ones. Still, Jaqui’s eyes had filled with genuine tears at seeing how her old friends were watching out for her.

Jaqui took four pills, which should be plenty since she was not sleep-deprived at the moment. Onyx asked for a dose as well. Jaqui handed over the bottle, telling him to take 2-4. He took four, naturally, not to be outdone by a girl. Everyone else went right to bed, soon falling sound asleep. Jaqui supposed their academies did a lot of camping. She had trouble last night sleeping on the hard ground (and Lindsay would say she slept mostly on her).

Jaqui looked over at Onyx, meaning to ask, when she noticed his nose was bleeding. Either it had been for a while, or it was really gushing, because his shirt was soaked. He looked unfocused and was breathing rapidly.

“Onyx! Onyx, sit down, man. What happened?”

“I don’t feel right. Can’t get. Enough. Air,” he panted.

“Okay, okay. Stay calm.” Jaqui could feel that his pulse was pounding but couldn’t think what it could be. Obviously the pills, but she had taken the same and he was 150% her weight.

Jaqui shook everyone else awake. She left Ivory with Onxy and organized teams to search for Valerian or other plants that could provide a sedative effect. They had plenty of flashlights from the Cornucopia, mercifully, so no one was eaten by vegetation. Unfortunately, by the time they returned, Onyx looked much worse. His right pupil was blown and Ivory said his speech had stopped making any sense.

Jaqui was stunned; he was stroking out. She locked eyes with Ivory. “No plant's going to cut it now. You have to beg your sponsors for the anti-stroke shot. That’s his only chance.”

Ivory begged, and she was good. Superior acting. She tore her top off and used it to clean Onyx’s face. She cried, pleaded, and made vague promises, but no package arrived.

“Sometimes the Gamemakers don’t let gifts go through, if they think it’ll break up the drama,” Lindsay tried to console Ivory. They both knew that this early, District One’s account surely had enough to cover even life-saving medicine. They had to watch helplessly as Onyx’s breathing became more and more irregular and then stopped.

Everyone stood well back as the shuttle came for his body. Day two, far too early for a Career to fall. Jaqui struggled to make sense of it.

“They test you at the academy, right? Physical tests; stress tests, to make sure that sort of thing doesn’t happen?” Jaqui asked Ivory. They’d for damn sure tested her. Try as she might to fail, the results kept coming back ‘Superior Physical Condition’.

“Of course. He was at peak.”

Something Lindsay had said kept bugging her. ‘They sometimes don’t let gifts go through if it’d break up the drama.’ Wiress had said something similar. Except she’d been talking about…other tributes. The Gamemakers wouldn’t break up another tribute’s plan.

Jaqui asked Ivory, as quietly as she could, “We had rabbit, canned vegetables, and fish for dinner. What did he eat the most of?”

Reading the seriousness of her expression, Ivory thought carefully. “Fish, I suppose. But I did too, and so did the 4s.”

That felt right to Jaqui. Growing up in such a land-locked district, she still tended to gravitate away from fish, and the 2s wanted more calorie dense protein. Only the 4s and 1s had really gobbled up the lean fish. And, of course, the 4s had caught and prepared it. “No more fish,” Jaqui mouthed to Ivory.

 

The next morning, Jaqui opened some new packages of cereal and warmed left-over fish on the fire. She’d shared her suspicions with Lindsay and Clay, so they were all trying their best to engage in a daily planning session while not obviously watching Tempest and Nemo eat.

Lindsay saw it first, and in Jaqui's opinion, she wouldn’t get more than an ‘Acceptable’ in acting class either. Tempest, after ‘eating’ a bite of fish had dropped something into the weeds. Lindsay’s mouth fell open for a second, then she stretched her arm back oh-so-casually to grasp the spear she’d hidden under some leaves. Faster than Jaqui’s eyes could follow, she threw, and it sprouted from Tempest’s chest like a strange mushroom.

Nemo’s reaction time was unbelievable. Clay had only delayed half a second before jumping to tackle him, but it was enough. Nemo sprinted away along what must have been a premeditated escape route. He had dived into the lake and was swimming faster than anyone could catch before Tempest’s cannon had fired.

The Career pack was now down to four. Less than Brian’s pack, Jaqui realized with a start. “I don’t know the varieties of fish in here very well,” she explained, “but I know some of them have toxins that gradually build up to raise blood pressure, even causing stroke at high doses. I figure they didn’t mean for Onyx to be affected yet. They were hoping we’d all get impaired right around day 7, when everyone else is dead and the pack breaks up. But he took the stim pills and that pushed him over the edge.”

A gentle pinging got their attention. It was a package for Lindsay, a container of lamb soup.

“My favorite. It’s a reward, for taking care of the traitor,” Lindsay said. She offered to share when she caught Jaqui staring intensely at the soup.

Jaqui wasn't hungry, however. She was taking in the shape of the metal container. All you’d need would be some strong adhesive, a fuse (trivial), something high in nitrogen…around here surely there were some mulchberries or snap-pop peas, maybe even pyroshrooms.

“They’re making grenades,” she said.


	5. IHTFP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IHTFP is the informal motto of MIT. It can stand for [ (lots of things) ](http://www.mit.edu/people/mjbauer/ihtfp.html)but usually either ‘I Hate This Fucking Place’ or ‘I Have Truly Found Paradise’. Students are bound to agree with one or the other at any given moment.

District 3 did not win the Hunger Games the previous year. L had a new name this year: F. J had a hard time keeping a positive attitude about it. In public, she tried her best, because the last thing L (F!) needed to worry about was consoling her friends about her imminent death. In private, J cried herself to sleep for the first week of the term. It wasn’t just …F. The Games were more than a theoretical danger for J now. She was 15, old enough to be chosen next.

The Institute clearly agreed that it was time to start training for real, and that meant working on J’s body as well as her mind. She’d assumed the PE classes they had to take each term were enough, but she’d been wrong. Ages 15 and up were enrolled in the Peace Officer Training Corps, since by that time they could pass for proper college age cadets. POTC was meant to be a scholarship program where a few of the smartest kids from other districts could enroll in the Institute in exchange for agreeing to work for the Peace Officers for 4 years afterward. In practice, almost no one successfully tested into POTC from outside District 3, so the Program had incorporated it into their training.

It meant early morning calisthenics, leadership classes, long runs, and weapons training on top of J's regular course load. The weapons weren’t even useful ones. What Arena had guns, stun sticks, or grenades?

J was commiserating with her friend K about how POTC was cutting into her class time. Plus, she still had to have her meal journal co-signed. The Med Center knew her as the ‘I Do Not Have an Eating Disorder; I Am Just Busy’ girl. They refused to give an inch (or a pound) no matter how clever her pleas.

“I know I said we’d get started on the lab, but I’m buried. Can we try for Saturday?” J asked.

“What about tomorrow morning? No POTC for us, remember.”

“Yes there is. The instructor went out of her way to say that there was a Victor coming to teach next time, so we’d better be at our sharpest.”

“Dummy, she said that for our benefit, so we’d know not to come. Most Victors end up being Mentors too. If they notice the District 3 Tributes are always in their POTC classes, they’ll get suspicious.”

“Hang on, most Victors are from career districts. They have their own academies. What are they going to do, turn in our illegal academy to protect their illegal academy?”

It took K a minute to tease apart the argument. “Yes. Because they can say their programs are to keep volunteering from becoming too confusing. They just have too many kids eager for glory so they have to rank them, whereas we…”

“…aren’t really volunteers. Damn it, I’d forgotten. Can you believe that?”

“Stockholm Syndrome? I dunno. Me too. I think we get so focused on solving the problem in front of us that we don't remember someone else put us in the maze.”

“Did you ever think about washing out, I mean on purpose?” J asked. She still had trouble believing L (sigh...F) wasn't going to be here next year.

“Not really. I mean the odds for us are bad, but not impossible. Plus I’ve got two little siblings. My sister’s smart, but not too smart, so she’ll be fine. My little brother, he was born early so he’s really small, sickly-like. There’s no way he’d make it in a district where you can’t earn a living with your mind. If nothing else, we're keeping them – and kids like them – safe. What about you?”

“Thought about it but…I like it here too much. I’ve going to stay the eight years if it kills me.” She gave a side-ways smile at her grim joke. It did help to think about keeping others safe. Certainly, that's what L would do.

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

The Career pack had to dismantle their lakeside campsite and start hiking to search for the others. The constantly shifting jungle made tracking difficult, and after two days of seeing no one else they were starting to fear that they were walking in circles. After hacking their way through another day of alarming vegetation, they came to the foot of a cliff.

“I'm thinking that'd be a pretty good spot. If you've got grenades, you'd want high ground,” Clay said, pointing up.

Lindsay found the tallest tree around. “I'll climb up quietly and see if I can see anything.”

Jaqui snaked in front of her. “Lindsay, you're about as sneaky as a dumptruck. I'll climb.”

“Let her go, Lindsay, and help us unpack,” Ivory said. She knew she was failing to deliver screen-time worthy moments and was itching to get back in the action.

Jaqui climbed until she could had a good view of the cliff top. There were definite signs of habitation. The closer she looked, the worse it got. The cliff face looked to be sheer granite with no cover. Brian's group had stationed piles of debris to drop on climbers, plus of course the threatened grenades. They had probably trapped the entire perimeter. It wouldn't surprise her if they'd even poisoned the handholds for climbing.

Jaqui slid down of the tree, landing silently as a cat. “It’s a mess,” she told her companions filling them in on the defenses seen and imagined.

“We could wait them out,” Lindsay suggested. “They can’t have that much money, and I don’t see there being any food up there.”

Jaqui replied, “They have a lot of foragers and kids who are used to going without food. Trust me, you can skip eating for a long time if you don't let yourself think about it. I'm sure they stuffed themselves for almost a week before hitting the Arena. There's water, so they might even have fish. We're not starving them out anytime soon.

“Let's assume Brian’s got everyone who’s not us. He expects us to charge them, not knowing about the bombs. It’ll take at least ten minutes to climb that cliff; we’ll be blown to bits. Great defensible position, no question. What’s bothering me is, what then? He’s got six other people to kill and at least some of them will have noticed he’s been calling all the shots. How does he expect to win?”

“He’d have to get rid of them all at once,” Clay said. Lindsay and Ivory nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Because otherwise they’d gang up on him. He’s not one of you guys. Even two against one, he’d probably lose, much less six to one. So he must have had a plan going in. One that didn’t involve counting on anything being in the Arena.”

“A gift?”

“Maybe. Or something he brought with him.” What was his token? A promise ring from his girlfriend, and that was BS right there; he didn’t have a girlfriend. It looked silver…but what if it was platinum? That’s a common chemical catalyst – out of basic ingredients he could make nitric acid … plastics … nylon … cyanide… ah, yes. That would do it.

“My guess is he’s cooked up a nice concentrated poison. Once we’re dead, he’d throw a big feast supposedly to split up their remaining food and go their own ways. One bite would do; it’s a really effective poison. Then he wins. That’s what I would do. If, um, I was a chemical engineering major, like him.” Jaqui supposed she’d never be asked to do the cooking again.

“Sounds 3-ish,” Ivory said. “You guys don’t win very often, but when you do it’s a fucking massacre.”

Lindsay squinted at the cliff. “Listen, Jaqui, I know you’re the big brain here, but I think you’ve miscalculated.”

“Yeah?” Jaqui looked up.

“I could be up that cliff in two minutes flat.” She looked at Clay. “You?”

“Pfft. With one hand tied behind my back.”

Jaqui took another look. That couldn’t be right. Lindsay grinned down at her.

“We do a lot of rock climbing in Two. Quarries, remember. What about you, Ivory?”

“No, not two minutes. But not ten either,” Ivory gave Jaqui a look of scorn.

“No problem. We’ve got rope. We can haul you up in a loop. 30 seconds, tops.”

“The three of us versus seven of them. Yeah, I like those odds,” said Clay.

“At the top, you’ll be vulnerable. Clustered together. That’s just what he wants,” Jaqui protested.

“We’ll spread out as quick as we can,” Lindsay assured her.

Ivory dug through their supplies and pulled out a bow. “Here. Cover us while we climb. Shoot off a few when we get to the top to keep their heads down.”

“But, what if I hit one of you?” Jaqui asked desperately.

“Don’t. Or I’ll get really pissed off. You don’t want to see that,” Ivory replied.

“This is a very risky idea. You don’t know all the variables,” Jaqui tried to get through to them. She managed to convince them to wear gloves for the climb, but otherwise couldn’t delay them from going through with it right away.

 

“Shit,” Wiress said, staring at her monitor in the control room.

That brought amused glances from Lyme and Brutus at District Two’s adjacent station. All the mentors were used to Wiress muttering to herself, giggling inappropriately, and noisily writing out equations only to throw them in the trash. Most of them would say they tolerated her, at best. In truth, however, each one had a story about how a seemingly random remark from her had made all the difference for one of their tributes.

‘Shit’ was new. It was a) coherent and b) puzzlingly negative.

“What’s the problem?” Brutus whispered. As one of the senior mentors in the room, he didn’t worry overmuch about formalities. Mentors shouldn’t distract one another, but his girl and her girl were allies, so they were too, for now.

Wiress catted her eyes toward Beetee, not wanting to say anything he could overhear. He was wearing headphones, but you never knew.

Brutus gestured for her to come over. “Seriously, it’s not a bad plan. Lindsay and Clay know what they’re doing. I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but sometimes that’s what it takes.”

The fury in her eyes shocked both Two mentors. Lyme actually found herself taking a step back, a fact she’d laugh herself into a stomach cramp about later. “I know,” Wiress growled. “He’s arrogant. He doesn’t expect a frontal assault.”

Fucking hell – three sentences in a row – what’s the world coming to? Brutus wondered. “So, what’s the problem?”

Wiress clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to say. Suddenly Lyme’s eyes widened, and she let out a quick, “Oh.”

“Don’t you dare-“ started Wiress.

“What do you think I-“ defended Lyme, though she was interrupted by Brutus.

“Tell me,” he demanded. Wiress went back to her seat, muttering ‘idiot’ at her screen.

“Her girl is safe, on the ground. The best thing that could happen for her is if the two groups took heavy casualties, weakened maybe even killed each other off.”

“Sure,” said Brutus.

“So why’s she trying to talk them out of it? Why doesn’t she want the ones she has no chance to beat in a stand-up fight leading the assault? See, this is why I choose boys. Girls are too soft-hearted.”

 

Jaqui hated being on the ground. She couldn't see a thing. After Lindsay, Clay, and Ivory reached the summit, they'd drawn weapons and dashed in. She lost sight of them almost immediately.

Jaqui screamed when the first grenade went off and curled into a ball when the cannons started firing. She counted six. But which six?

“Here, catch,” Lindsay said out of nowhere. Luckily she didn't actually throw the home-made grenade, because Jaqui was far too startled to catch it.

“Where did you come from?” Jaqui squealed.

Lindsay gestured toward the trees. “Told you I could be stealthy.”

Jaqui would love to reply, but bladder control was taking all her focus right now. It didn't help that Lindsay was holding a bloody spear.

“Calm down. You don't have to worry about me yet. We've still got Nemo to find. You were right about most of what was up there, including the grenades. It was useful. You're still in the pack.”

“There were six? Are Clay and Ivory okay?”

“Ivory has a burn on her leg and she's milking it like you would not believe. Your, um, district partner is still alive up there. Ivory's playing with him. It's gross. We should probably stay down here, cook some dinner. We're not taking any food from up there, that's for sure. Poison everywhere.”

Lindsay did her best to distract Jaqui until the cannon fired. When their hands touched, Wiress and Brutus exchanged equal looks of misery.


	6. Mind and Hand

District 3 won the Hunger Games the previous year! Lin, whom J had known for five years as L, brought home the victory. J hadn’t even wanted to watch the Games at first, balling her hands into fists every time the broadcast focused on Lin stalking through the Arena. It soon became apparent that she was highly skilled at hiding, climbing, and foraging. J felt an odd pride every time she saw her use a skill they’d been taught in class, and gradually gave herself permission to hope.

The gimmick that year was a weapon-less Arena. There were plenty of poisons, environmental traps, and mutts, but no man-made weapons or devices. Lin, bizarrely, proved to be an incredible hand to hand fighter. J didn’t quite understand how she was doing it, but somehow Lin could strike her opponents so that their joints would dislocate or they’d end up flat on their backs. It was weird because she was not a big girl, but every time someone charged her, she was the one who walked away. Her specialty was breaking arms. She actually ended her time in the Arena with only two direct kills, but she’d left quite a few opponents helpless for someone else to finish off.

Her final opponent (1M) initially got the drop on her with a powder made from poison leaves. He’d blown it into Lin’s eyes, temporarily blinding her. He must have gotten over-confident then, closing with the crude spear he’d fashioned from a broken tree branch. Lin soon had his kneecap dislocated and right arm broken. She managed to gain control of the spear. It took her three jabs to find his heart, but considering that she couldn’t see, she was spared a stern note from their anatomy professor.

 

When the new year's Program rankings were released, everyone was shocked that a fourteen year old named B was ranked one. He was fifth last year; what the hell happened? It turned out that X and K, like J (who was maintaining at seventh), had allowed their ranks to slip on purpose, feeling the pressure of their advancing years. Fourteen year old T, who had always ranked high, had been named F. Most surprisingly, perennial rank one C was now Carol, an actual graduate of the Program. She'd aged out. J had never seen that happen before.

Lin filled J in on what had happened behind the scenes. While she was celebrating her victory in the Capitol, Lin had heard several remarks about how the ages of the District 3 tributes were skewing old. With no Volunteers, this was starting to arouse suspicion. The Program had determined that 3’s tributes were going to need to be young next year to bring their average down.

“So they're just going to sacrifice T? She's one of our smartest. Why not a Bootstrapper?” J asked, then paused, a little horrified about what had come out of her mouth.

“Who do you think M is going to be? E, the twelve year old who placed last. He's the sacrifice. Wiress, Beetee, and myself are all going to be working for T, trying to get her through. If we get the right Arena and have the right strategy, it can work. A fourteen year old won the year before me, you know, Finnick Odair.”

J thought Lin's ability to look on the bright side was kicking into turbo mode. On further reflection, she supposed Lin needed to be able to convince herself that it wasn't a death sentence before she could convince T.

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

The Career pack reestablished their campsite by the lake after the successful destruction of the outer district pack. There was an equilibrium, but no one was entirely satisfied. Ivory assumed that her torture session with Brian had gotten her lots of sponsor love, considering the speed with which she was sent ointment for her burn. However, she couldn't help but notice that she was becoming the odd person out in the pack.

Clay's path had been smooth so far, but his District-mate was distracted. If she would focus on helping him finish Nemo, then they could team up against Ivory and honorably duel for a guaranteed District 2 title. One thing had to happen first, though.

The mentors' control room was notably more empty now, after the previous day's devastating battle. The only stations still manned were Cashmere at 1, Brutus and Lyme at 2, Wiress at 3, and Mags at 4. The sudden quiet was playing hell with everyone’s nerves as the mentors knew the end could come quickly if the Gamemasters interfered, or the alliance broke, or the 3 did something unexpected.

“What are you sending her?” Lyme asked. She knew Brutus often grew frustrated at this stage of the Games, when plotting was more important than action. She was growing tense herself because it looked like it might be a 2F versus 2M year, and those were never easy for the mentors. Brutus was one of her oldest friends though, and they'd help each other out as long as they could.

“Just a machete, and a note telling her to get her mind off 3's ass and back in the game.”

“She has a knife already, and she knows, Brutus. They're working as hard as they can. Nemo's got a good hiding spot. We shouldn't push them or they'll do something rash like going into the lake after him.” The mentors could see that Nemo had found a cave with its only access point under the surface of the lake. He had been venturing out to wage a clever war of terror on the remnants of the Career pack, then retreating to his sanctuary. Mentors weren't allowed to give their tributes so much as a hint, though, so they were forced to sit on their hands and watch.

“I'm more worried about 3 at this point,” he said.

“You're not serious.”

“I don't know if she can kill her, Lyme.”

Lyme's brow furrowed. It never boded well when a mentor saw signs that the training was slipping. Fortunately, she had good news. “I don't think she'll have to. Clay and Ivory are going to take care of 3 tonight. They were making plans earlier.” Trying to sound nonchalant, she continued, “It wasn't my idea, if Wiress asks.”

A pinging parachute drifted down to where Lindsay and Jaqui were cuddling together. Lindsay grabbed it, read the tag, and opened it.

Brutus shot a confused glance at his console. The gift he had been in the process of buying was still in the unconfirmed/unsent queue. The camera zoomed in on the package. It contained two cinnamon rolls with the note 'Make her eat. --District 3.'

Lin returned to the control room from the sponsor's floor to see the District 2 mentors glaring daggers at Wiress. She sat down in Beetee's vacated seat, and muttered “What did you do?” as quietly as she could. When Wiress showed her the transcript, she exclaimed, “Oh sweet Buddha,” and clamped a hand over her mouth. She almost made it back into the hallway before the nervous laughter poured out of her.

 

“Why did your District send me food for you?” Lindsay asked.

“I don't know. My mentor's crazy; maybe you've heard.”

“Have you not been eating? You're looking really skinny.”

“In the Hunger Games? Shocking. Don't worry. I eat enough, and we've been so busy.”

“We're not busy now. Go ahead, eat.”

“I think one of those is for you,” Jaqui demurred.

“I'm not allowed sweets,” Lindsay said automatically. They smelled so tempting. 'Nutritional non-compliance' was the one thing that had gotten her demerits at the academy.

“You're adorable. I am such a bad influence on you. Come on, live a little before it's too late.”

“I'll eat half of one; you eat the rest. Plus a real dinner. I'll be watching.”

Jaqui looked up and mouthed curses to the sky, but she knew what was behind it. She stewed in it for a few moments, then took Lindsay's hand.

“She did it to manipulate you. She thinks if she makes you watch out for me with my little food problem, that'll make you protective and you'll be less able to hurt me.”

“Waste of money.”

“Yeah, of course. Wait. That could go either way. Do you mean-”

“I mean, unless it's just down to the two of us, I decided days ago that no matter what anyone says, I'm not going after you.”

“Nice to know; same here. But my kill count's at zero, so I'm sure you weren't exactly quaking in your boots.”

“Nuh-uh. No way I'm going to underestimate you. We learned our lesson from your victor Lin's games.” Lindsay shuddered. “Give me a clean kill any day over suffering with a broken arm for days. Now, are you going to eat or am I going to stuff those rolls down your throat?”

“Y'know it's kind of sexy when you-”

“Will you fucking eat?! You really do have a problem, don't you?”

“Yeah well, you're ...annoyingly stubborn,” Jaqui said, finally taking a bite.

 

After they'd eaten their no-time-for-foraging dinner of crackers and dried fruit, Clay suggested that they split up to reconnoiter the lake. Not to engage with Nemo, he emphasized, just to look for signs of his presence. “There's no rush. We're going to gradually zero in on his hiding place.” They drew lots on which quadrant of the lake shore to search, but it didn't really matter. Clay's plan was for Ivory and himself to circle back to Jaqui no matter what. Luck was with them, as Lindsay drew the lot for the far side of the lake.

Jaqui stalked through the vines in her section. It was slow going because, after checking the shore, she had to verify she wasn't about to brush up against anything deadly. She hoped Lindsay was being as careful. She hoped Nemo was getting tired. All by himself for days, with no one to help him forage or to guard him while he slept, surely his defenses would start to break down.

Two cannon shots went off, one right after the other.

Jaqui couldn't keep from running the probabilities. Four left besides herself. Two down. 50% it was Lindsay. If we assume we're still cooperating, most likely it was Nemo and another dying in mutual attacks. 33% chance it was Lindsay. Considering overall fitness and training scores, most likely Nemo and Ivory. She could live with that. Please let it be Nemo and Ivory, she begged.

The searchlights of the retrieval shuttle penetrated the jungle canopy. Jaqui could see two bodies being pulled up together. Long blonde hair. Ivory. And a man. Not Lindsay. She felt her legs go weak. Not Lindsay. A big guy, though, not a lithe swimmer. Why..what had Clay and Ivory been doing together?

 

Lyme stared at her console in shock. Cashmere was out of her seat looking for a malfunction. It had happened so fast. One moment, their tributes' vitals had been perfect; the next, gone. They must have triggered one of 4's traps, or – less likely at this stage – run into a Gamemaster challenge. Finnick Odair was manning Mags' station through the evening hours. He looked calm and business-like as he watched Nemo's progress. Wiress looked more puzzled than usual. Had to have been 4's doing.

Brutus looked over to Lyme when he heard the cannons. Her pale face told him all he needed to know. “Sorry,” he said.

“Nothing I could have done,” she replied. “I didn't see it either.” She stood up. “I'm going to take a walk.” She would be back, though, Brutus knew. They'd work together to try to get the win for Lindsay. He just hoped she'd take their advice.

 

Jaqui whispered for Lindsay all the way back to the campsite. “Lindsay...Lindsay...if you grab me out of the darkness, I will pee all over both of us, fair warning.”

Lindsay did grab her, but out of the light of the campfire, so disaster averted. She swept her into a bearhug.

“Lindsay, you're soaking wet. Did you swim across the lake? Don't do that! Never do that!”

“I had to. I needed to hurry back. I was halfway across; then I saw the shuttle, and who it was. Then I realized I...probably shouldn't have gone into the lake.”

“Can't imagine where Wiress ever got the idea you could be protective. So what now?” Jaqui asked.

“We stick together. Wait for Nemo to pick off one of us. The other gets vengeance.”

“Well, that's a terrible plan. Wish I had a better one.” Jaqui tugged Lindsay down to sit beside the fire and warm herself.

“Me too, smart girl, me too.”


	7. EIT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EIT (pronounced to rhyme with ‘fight’) is an expression for when something goes wrong. It’s about 2/3 'that sucks' + 1/3 'make it work'.

Not only did District 3 not win the Hunger Games the previous year, but both Tributes died in the first day. They had not had such a disastrous showing in years, and it caused a major loss of morale within the Program. The mentors were hidden away in meetings for days; even class rankings were late. Finally, two seventeen year olds were chosen as M and F. The Committee had apparently decided that having suspiciously old Tributes was better than throwing away those too young to have a chance.

Lin took a possessive interest in approving everyone’s class schedule for maximum utility. After bitter debate, they were allowed to keep their one humanities class, but everything else was labs and engineering. No theory past age 16 was the new unofficial rule. J had already finished all the requirements for her physics major, so doing a second in mechanical engineering wasn’t abhorrent to her. Left to her own devices, though, she probably would have chosen math.

There was no mistaking the anger all over campus, and even Panem. It wasn’t only to do with the Games. A scorching summer and dry spring had led to food shortages in the grain lands. This had meant less food for people and livestock, so now there were meat shortages and the harvesters weren’t strong enough to meet their fruit and vegetable quotas. Everyone in the outer districts was hungry and angry about seeing so much of their production shipped to the Capitol. The middle and inner districts were equally resentful about having to maintain their own production quotas with no salary adjustment to meet rising food prices.

At least in the inner districts, including Three, any family could take tesserae without fear, secure in the knowledge that the Tributes were not chosen from their general pool of children. The Program kids had fraternity-style shirts printed with the letters TWF to remind themselves that their sacrifices were not entirely in vain.

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

The sudden deaths of Ivory and Clay had thrown off everyone’s timetables – tributes and mentors alike. The mentors had to scramble to secure all-important commitments from the remaining sponsors. Nothing was more likely to cause a mentor to start exploring the Capitol drug scene than falling a few credits short in a tense finale. At least this year’s final three each had a sufficiently large team that someone could monitor and another could hustle at all times.

Nemo had retreated after his successful double whammy, though sharp-eyed viewers caught his head popping above the surface when the anthem played. He had to have been glad to get rid of two Careers, with only one Career and one wildcard left to go. Jaqui and Lindsay had slept for the night in the back of a cave, reasoning that it was better to hide and both get a good night’s sleep than set watches and be less than 100% sharp the next day. Clearly, the Games were swiftly approaching the end.

 

“Gotta admit, I’m the tiniest bit surprised to wake up this morning. Thought you might decide to clear the field after all,” Jaqui said.

Lindsay shook her head. She had closed her fist around the handle of her knife last night. Done her best to hypnotize herself into forgetting Jaqui was someone she cared about, but it hadn’t worked. There didn’t seem to be a great way out of this other than the merciful prongs of Nemo’s trident (or whatever he was using). Even then, though she didn’t want to die herself, the thought of Jaqui’s lifeless body made her feel nauseous. She suspected that Jaqui felt the same. The stereotype that 3s had ice water in their veins seems to have skipped her.

“What about you? Weren't you at all worried to be vulnerable around me?” Jaqui had some nice poisons gathered earlier, all dehydrated and ready to use. She could have just spread a little under Lindsay’s gums and it would have been done. Which was much like saying she could have sprouted wings and flown out of the Arena. Presupposing an impossibility, in other words.

“I wasn’t worried. You said we had a truce until Nemo was gone, and you can’t lie to save your life, so to speak.”

“Maybe I’ve been lying about lots of stuff. You don’t know,” Jaqui challenged. She knew she was right, though. Probably she should have taken another go at Acting seminar.

“I know you didn’t really have a reason we shouldn’t attack Brian; you were just worried. Which was sweet, by the way. I know you’ve been eating exactly what you say, no more no less. I’m quite sure you were really a virgin.”

“Oh no. Was I terrible at it? Am I still terrible at it?” Jaqui felt heat rising in her cheeks. Considering Lindsay’s death was one thing; disappointing her in bed, quite another. Not for the first time, she wondered if her priorities were out of whack.

“No, not at all. It’s just you, uh, bled all over my sheets the first time.”

 

Lin felt a wadded up piece of paper bounce off the back of her head. She turned to see Brutus mouth “Her sheets?” Lin rolled her eyes. He had no reason to be quiet now. It was just him and her in the control room at the moment. She understood though. Sometimes you just wanted to throw something.

“How’d she get in her room?” he asked, incredulous scowl on his face. He remembered the ‘nosebleed’ the morning of the first day of the Games. That hadn’t rung entirely true, now that he thought about it.

“I don’t know, man. Does she look like a rule-follower to you? Chalk it up to teenagers being insane hormone-monsters.”

“Rules, nothing. There were four locked doors between them.”

“She’s creative and stubborn. Those are the main … things we liked about her.” She’d almost said ‘reasons we choose her’; she’d have to be more careful. “They’re kicking us in the ass now, if it helps.”

Lin had her own problems. She was supposed to be on the sponsor floor now, but had been called to monitor duty as an emergency. Mags had suffered some sort of attack and Wiress wanted to stay with her in the medical office. No doubt she’d lost track of time trying to give advice. Chief competitor or not, there was no other mentor as universally loved as Mags. If they lost her, Four would count these Games as a tragedy no matter what.

 

“So how do we get Nemo out of the lake?” Lindsay asked.

“Why don’t we take off our clothes, and go sunbathe?”

“Um, because the glare off your pasty skin would blind me?”

“Aw, you saw through my strategy. No, I just figured we might as well do some sponsor service while we wait. Because we are not going in there, agreed?”

“Agreed, absolutely. The Gamemasters won’t let him hide in there forever.”

“We’ll have a picnic. I’ll bring the food; you bring the weapons.”

They relocated, built an obvious campfire and waited for there to be any disturbance of the lake’s surface. As the day wore on, Jaqui and Lindsay reminded themselves to stay sharp. Allowing boredom to dull their senses could easily result in another Nemo two-fer.

The mentors traded shifts in the control room. Wiress reported that Mags had suffered a transient ischemic attack, basically a mild stroke. She had been transported to the hospital and was expected to recover fully this time. It did not portend well for the future, however. Considering her age, a more serious stroke was only a matter of time. Finnick was now on his own, and looked far out of his depth. It was obvious that his mind wasn’t really on his console.

 

A cannon shot rang out.

Jaqui and Lindsay exchanged almost comic looks of surprise.

“That can’t have been…”

The whirr of the retrieval shuttle made itself heard.

“No way. It’s not possible.”

They could see the shuttle now, hovering over the lake. It extended a hook but did not seem to be able to fish anything out. Two divers soon jumped down and swam at a diagonal under the water. After a few minutes, the divers emerged dragging a body. They placed it onto the hook and rode up with it, trailing some manner of vines.

“Stranglekelp,” Jaqui said. “We saw it earlier. He must not have noticed it growing towards his area.”

“Yeah, bound to miss a few things when you’re on your own.” Lindsay replied numbly.

A few beats passed as they tried not to acknowledge what Nemo’s death meant.

“Well, if you want to make it quick, there’s nothing I can do about it,” Jaqui finally broke the silence.

“I’m not going to.”

“I’d rather you not make it slow. Just get it over with.”

“I can’t. I realized last night. I just can’t.” (Both Lyme and Brutus’ hands reached to massage the same spot on his neck.)

“Don’t look at me; I haven’t even killed a rabbit.” (Wiress stared down at the splintered remains of three pencils in her lap.)

“Well, one of us-“

“We’ll let the Arena do it!” Jaqui proposed with a surge of hope. Or something like hope anyway. “This whole place is a death trap. Let’s split up, explore, and see who has the worst luck. If it gets dark, we’ll come back to the camp and try again tomorrow.”

“Okay,” said Lindsay but she didn’t look so hopeful.

 

Brutus was shaking his head. Wiress was too.

“That Arena just got as safe as Grandma’s house, didn’t it?” Lin asked.

Wiress nodded.

 

Jaqui wandered for the rest of the day through dying kudzu and the cloying smell of rotting flowers. She saw spoor from some large animal (or possibly an animal-eating plant), but nothing dangerous crossed her path. Instead, she found ripe blackberries. She gathered them up and made her way back to camp. A hour or so later, Lindsay also returned.

“Hey, have some berries. They may be poison,” Jaqui said.

“I doubt it. Did you see anything interesting?”

“Nope.”

“Dangerous?”

“Nope.”

“That’s what I figured. They’re going to make us duel. They’ve got to have a winner, and it’s always unpopular when someone wins by default. Maybe you could choose the weapon. Would that make it more fair?”

“Sure. I choose starvation.”

“Jaqui…”

“It’s the only weapon I have a chance with, and you know it.”

“I don’t think we have that kind of time.” Lindsay privately doubted she had that kind of willpower. There was a lot of food left. “I just wish there was a way, not for us to both get out – that’ll never happen – but for the winner to not have to hate herself.”

“Well…I might have an idea about that,” Jaqui said. She’d come up with it last night but hesitated mentioning it to Lindsay. It seemed unethical, considering that Lindsay could win anytime she wanted.

“Oh good. Your ideas are never dull.”

Jaqui looked up to the sky. “I need chocolate fudge. And sleeping pills, if we can afford them. I won’t need anything after that, so feel free to blow the bank.”

 

Wiress keyed in the commands. Lin hovered at her shoulder, praying that Jaqui was right about being able to live with herself afterward. She still woke up most nights to the phantom sounds of breaking bones and howls of agony. Better than the alternative, she always told herself, trying usually in vain to get back to sleep.

Once the gifts arrived, Jaqui divided the fudge into two balls. As Lindsay watched, she added two sleeping pills to each, then her cache of poison to one. She rolled and kneaded them until they looked identical. She put them into a small pouch together and gave them a good shake.

“I’m not sure whether the poison hurts or not, that’s why I wanted the sleeping pills. This way, we both go to sleep, and only one of us wakes up. I have no idea any more which is which, but I divided, so you choose. Or just use your knife, y’know, if you’d rather not take the 50/50.”

Lindsay smiled, the tension draining out of her expression. “It's fair. And how could I say no to chocolate?”

Lindsay choose. Jaqui ate the other nearly whole, afraid that she’d notice the bitter taste of poison and chicken out. Lindsay ate more slowly, savoring what could be her last forbidden sweet. By the time she was done, Jaqui yawned. The sleeping pills were kicking in very quickly. She gave Lindsay a chaste kiss on her lips and lay near the fire to wait. Lindsay soon joined her.

They both slept, their breathing steady and deep for a while. And then there was only one.

 

The usual congratulatory atmosphere was absent from the control room. Several mentors from other districts had wandered in to see the end from the privileged positions there. How the finale had shaken out left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth, however. Even the mentors who liked to parrot the Capitol's lines on the Games had a hard time finding glorious victory today.

Wiress’ hair stood up in spikes from not being able to keep her fingers out of it. She was grateful for the result, but also deeply worried. The manner of Jaqui’s win was going to need finesse to spin. Wiress always had trouble expressing herself with words these days, so that would leave much of it up to Lin, who was new to the political considerations in the Games, and Jaqui who was clearly not thinking logically. At least Beetee should be back by now, his mysterious meetings concluded.

Brutus was furious with himself, with his Tribute, with the Academy training, and even with Lyme who had excused herself from the room once Lindsay committed to her choice. He knew she also needed some space to deal with her emotions and probably was trying to keep her anger from feeding into his. Still, he could sure use someone to remind him not to smash his console into shards right now.

Finally, Brutus brought himself to gently (gently!) shake Wiress’ hand and escort her out to meet Jaqui’s shuttle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: post-Arena politics. Wait! Come back, it'll be fun. There's a heist.


	8. Only Life Can Kill You

Shortly before the term began, Lin turned up outside J’s door to give her the news in person.

“It’s going to be you, as F. I'm sure you suspected, but logic is one thing and the visceral gut punch of seeing it in print is another.”

“I mean, I’m 18. They weren’t going to graduate me so soon after Carol.” J struggled to keep her expression stoic. Yes, she had assumed; no, that didn't make it easier. This was Lin, though, who'd been through it and come out the other side. J didn't want to disappoint her.

“No, you’re too well-trained. Do you know, C’s – Carol’s – graduation wasn’t an accident? She was totally inept with ambiguity. Circuit boards and computer programming, no problem, but anything that couldn’t be solved by an algorithm, she froze. You though, Wiress loves your mind, the way it bends around problems, your insights. She’s so excited she’s talking in sentences.”

“Great. Who’s going to be my district mate?” She could get the words out, but acting enthusiastic wasn't going to happen.

“There was talk about choosing a Bootstrapper for M and concentrating on you. Beetee was against it though. He says it’s better to have two paths to the end.”

“Sure, parallel is more robust than serial. And it’s not like sacrificing a Bootstrapper did T any good.”

“No it did not.” There was still plenty of bad feeling swirling around the Program about the year of tiny Tributes. “So, Wiress is going to mentor you with me as support, and Beetee has chosen B.”

J gave Lin a sour look. “Is that how it happens? All the methodologies we tried to deduce for years, and it all comes down to Wiress or Beetee’s decision?”

“You got it. I’m not invited so I don’t know exactly what goes down, but they meet for about a day behind closed doors and come out with the new M and F and the cuts. Rumor has it they spend more time on the cuts.”

“I was an easy choice. I’m glad that took B over X though. X is sneaky smart; B just thinks he is.”

“There are some changes that come with being chosen. First off, classes are optional. You’ll take…we’ll call it MechE thesis, with Wiress. You'll help her with whatever she needs, but mostly it’s so you get to know each other and learn how to work together. POTC is very much not optional. Near the end of the term they’ll put you through a survival course that’s as tough as we can make it. It’s not as bad as the Games, but it helps you develop a mindset.”

“What about my diet? Can I finally lose the diaries?”

Lin recited mechanically, trying to keep her expression neutral because she had accurately anticipated that this would come up, “Nutritional monitoring will be increased; higher protein, calcium, and overall calories, especially. You’ll move to a larger room-“

“With constant surveillance…”

“Let’s just say you will be protected from all danger. You should work on maintaining contact with your friends so as not to become isolated. Get to know B if you can; see if you think you can work together in the Arena.”

“Can you teach me to fight like you?” It would sure be nice to have Lin's secret weapon in her arsenal. She was feeling like a squishy brain in a glass body at the moment.

“No, it takes years to develop enough discipline that I’d be helping rather than hurting you. I’ve been studying since I was five. Concentrate on bettering the skills you already know, not adding something new at this late a date. And, y’know, don’t leave anything undone.”

“Carpe diem?”

“Carpe diem. Carpe noctem. Seize whatever you want.”

 

* * *

The 68th Hunger Games

* * *

 

Jaqui had disappeared after being taken aboard the shuttle, which wasn’t unusual. Victors were often so traumatized or injured that they needed several days to come back to themselves enough to be presented to the Capitol. Jaqui had no physical injuries though and had seemed perfectly calm climbing aboard the shuttle. Rumors grew as two days went by without a public appearance.

Lyme, oddly, was the first to figure out that there was going to be a problem. She had been in and out of the control room helping Brutus when she noticed a discrepancy in the broadcast. The more she watched, the worse it got. Lyme knew that a …loyal (smart) Panem citizen would forget she saw anything. 'If you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget',(*) as the joke went. This was the girl’s life though. They wouldn’t just break a few inconspicuous bones. She was going to disappear if she didn’t follow the Capitol’s lead.

 

It was strange to see Lyme trying to be gentle. She was made for climbing mountains, swinging swords, grabbing an opponent by the throat and flinging them to the ground. Her over-sized body never seemed more absurd than when she was placed in a photo-op in a flower garden or with a basket of puppies. However, she’d had to call in favors to be allowed to visit with the new Victor. So, when her Rehabilitation Center contact said to dress in linen scrubs and meet in the leisure garden, that’s what she did. He introduced her to Jaqui, who looked sullenly away from the relaxing waterfall.

“Hello Jaqui. I’m Lyme, Clay’s mentor.” She extended one of her huge hands. Jaqui clasped it, confused.

“Clay?” Jaqui asked. Lyme shot a piercing glare at her friendly nurse.

“Her medication should be at a metabolic minimum,” he said backing away to find someplace less intimidating.

Lyme spoke softly, “Clay was-“

“I know who Clay was! I meant, you were Clay’s mentor and not Lindsay’s? Why would you care how I’m getting along?”

“You’re a Victor. You’re part of an unbroken line going back to the Dark Days. We all care about each other, and we’d like to help you.”

“Oh, I’ve heard what a wonderful life I’m in for. Do you know the sort of propositions my mentor is receiving about me? While I’m in the hospital?!” She wasn’t meant to know, but Wiress hadn’t changed the password on her tablet lately.

Lyme winced. There was a reason that, even at 35, she still looked mannish and dangerous. As outre as they pretended to be, in the end, Capitol citizens wanted classical beauty. The little Three who had won a couple years ago, Lin, had been simple enough to protect. Boyish and tough, it was only her vibrant personality that had gotten her any attention at all. Fortunately, those attracted to personality tended to take ‘no’ for an answer.

It wasn’t going to be so easy with Jaqui. As physically attractive as she was weak, with an annoying superior attitude, she was going to attract the worst sorts of admirers. They’d have lots of influence and never have had to pay for the consequences of their actions. They’d want to possess her and break her, and she was going to have to let them. And, Lyme thought darkly, that’s only if we get past her first set of problems.

“Listen to me,” Lyme said, “what you need to worry about now is your interview. Did you…have they shown you footage from the end of the Games?”

“They tried. Apparently I didn’t take it well. They shot me up with so much ketadone that I don’t remember anything.”

“But you remember the actual Games, though?”

The look Jaqui gave Lyme could sear metal.

“Good. Then there’s something you need to know. I was watching the end in the control room, where there’s a direct feed from the Arena. I watched as you divided the chocolate, mixed in the poison and drugs, scrambled them up, let Lindsay choose first. More to the point, I saw Lindsay watching you. She knew exactly what you were doing; what you were proposing. She even knew she had a knife at her belt. She didn’t have to take the 50/50 shot. Everyone who saw the raw feed understood what was going on, but that’s not what most people saw.

“I noticed it when I went outside-“ (to scream) “-everyone was talking about the cunning of the Victor, how she won by a brilliant display of manipulation. That didn’t sound right, so I watched the replay. It was crude with a lot of cut-aways; obviously re-edited on the fly. They’ve been smoothing it out for the past two days. What they saw was you preparing the chocolate, mixing in the drugs, then handing her one. The audience couldn’t see her watching. They made it look like you gained her trust and then murdered her without a second thought.

“What you need to understand is that from now on, you must stick to that story. President Snow knows that’s not what happened, but he’s giving you this chance. You killed her because that’s what you were there to do. It doesn’t matter that you were allies. Alliances have to break because the strongest alliance must be to the Capitol. That’s what he wants to hear: you sacrificed her to do your duty. End of story.”

“That makes no sense at all. If the Games are about peace and reconciliation why can’t we say what really happened? That a 2 and a 3 liked each other too much to go though with it. We overcame our differences; became one nation again.”

“You can’t-That’s not the story they want. You have to stick to the story they like. 3s are smart but cold. 2s can be overly loyal. They’re comfortable with that.”

“It’s not true.”

Lyme had to slow count to five. In District 2 she’d have a trainee dangling two feet off the ground for such insubordination. “Do they teach you to be difficult in 3? To question everything?” She was trying to help and this undisciplined girl wasn’t listening.

“Yes? Of course. That's actually a fundamental lesson.”

Thinking like that was so dangerous. No wonder 3 was always on the cusp of rebellion. Lyme’s eye was starting to twitch. “Well 2s follow orders and we make out much better. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stick to the story.”

“Lindsay didn’t follow orders.”

Knives twisted in Lyme’s gut. “Goddamn it! You think I don’t know how we failed her? We’ll improve the training. We’ll fix it. We can fix it.” She hadn’t cried in years, but between the frustration and the unpleasant reminder of failure, it was going to happen if she didn’t leave soon.

“You can’t fix it, because you didn’t fail her. You asked a very nice girl to do something monstrous. That’s not you failing, that’s society failing.”

“Shut up! Shut up. I don’t want to hear that. You just remember what I said. Don’t throw your life away. Lindsay wouldn’t appreciate that.” If Jaqui could hit below the belt, so could she.

Lyme strode away at a pace closer to running. The girl was a foot shorter and 100 pounds lighter, which made Lyme feel like a coward, but sometimes you had to retreat so your opponent didn’t see how badly they’d wounded you. Why did it feel like her whole belief system was crumbling? She should have minded her own business. 'If you see something, no, you didn’t.' (*)

 

Three days later, Jaqui was finally released from the Rehabilitation Center and deemed ready as she’d ever be for presentation. She’d gained some extra time out of the spotlight from the Capitol's interest in Mags’ recovery (which probably did Mags little good). Mags was being discharged and sent home on an express train today, though, so the audience needed fresh entertainment. The new Victor who was rumored to have had a mental breakdown was bound to be amusing.

Against the better judgment of important parts of her psyche, Lyme was still in the Capitol. All the other non-3 mentors had returned but she’d made up excuses to stay for another week. Everyone believed her except Brutus, but he was too blinded by faith to guess at her real motives. (Which was NOT the right way to think about things, those important parts of her psyche screamed).

Lyme was in the VIP room backstage with Jaqui’s mentors, preparing to watch stoically as the girl buried herself. It wasn’t her problem. It was brave, though. Childishly naïve but honest. She could hear the girl’s mentors whispering softly.

“Any chance she’s going to say what she needs to say?” Beetee asked.

“No, we only got the word this morning and she’s been in prep all day. When I talked to her last night, she was still going on about the fall of society,” Lin replied. What the hell was philosophy still doing in the curriculum anyway? Was the linguistics department trying to get us killed?

“They’ll give her something to calm her down,” he suggested. “She only has to sit there and nod. Caesar can lead her through; he’s done it before.”

“Sure, they’ll give her enough drugs to stun an elephant. In her food. Which she won’t eat,” Lin grumbled.

“Are you saying you want to do plan E?”

“I don’t think she sees tomorrow without it.”

“Her mom. Anyone else?”

“No, though I’m happy to escort. I’d like to see-“

“Can you do it without breaking her arms?” he interrupted. They surely didn’t listen to all the audio capture, but he’d be almost disappointed in them if they didn’t have algorithms monitoring for phrases like ‘thirteen’.

The younger woman replied with an ‘I doubt it’ shrug.

“Do it anyway,” Wiress mumbled.

“I probably could.” Lyme only realized she’d spoken when she saw them all turn toward her with panicked expressions. “I told her I would help her,” she continued softly, “and it sounds like she needs help.”

Beetee twiddled his fingers in a complicated pattern that was probably some kind of code.

“Loyal doesn’t mean lapdog,” Wiress said. She thought for a few seconds, eyes darting behind closed eyelids like she was dreaming, then she nodded and started writing. The page she handed Lyme was surprising legible despite the speed it was written. Crisp block printing said: “Supply closet 24-250B. Peace keeper uniform + riot mask. Intercept. Platform 1 (Mags’ train) & secure cargo.”

Lyme pointed to the spot in her arm where the Games team had injected a tracker, supposedly to make sure mentors didn’t interfere with other tributes. Hers hadn’t been removed yet. She hoped they understood what she meant.

“Lin!’

“I’m hurrying! Her arms are twice the size of mine.”

Lin held an electronic device to Lyme’s arm. It’s display showed a red dot which blinked a few times then turned green. She then wrapped a heavy metal band around the area where she’d found the tracker. The band had been sheared open and resealed with elastic tape. “Just make sure the metal part stays on top.”

Wiress indicated the signal cloning device. “You’ll be right here until you get back.”

 

The girl could almost fight. Against a non-career she might have had a chance. Once she realized who was under the peace keeper uniform Jaqui stopped struggling. Which was good, because if she bit her again she was losing teeth, Lyme had decided.

“Let me go! I have to tell them!”

“Twenty three kids are dead, two from my district. You do not get to – listen to me – throwing your life away is pissing on their graves. Your mentors have a plan for you. I may happen to think they’re crazy, but it’s better than all of them dying horribly, right?”

Jaqui blinked, something like sanity surfacing in her eyes.

“Yeah. It’s not just you. Say what you want and your whole team goes down. Your district’s punished. Your family disappears. So maybe, sit quietly for this nice little train trip, and think about something other than how mad you are. Which I understand, by the way. But you have to use it or it will use you.”

Lyme left her sitting quietly as requested in the cargo compartment. Hopefully they already had someone to meet her in 4, and ...whatever came next. It wasn’t worth worrying about. Threes were methodical; you could trust them with the details. She ditched the uniform down a laundry chute and returned to the VIP room. Inside there was a well-feigned conversation wondering when the broadcast would start. She ripped off the armband and settled back into her seat.

Lin tried to ask Lyme something, but Wiress prevented it with a touch to her arm. At least one crazy lady knew when to keep her mouth shut. Personally, Lyme intended to purge this past week from her mind as soon as possible. Whatever it took to make ‘it’s not your failure; it’s society’s failure,’ stop echoing in her head.

 

A tragic announcement from Capitol News: The Victor of the 68th Hunger Games, Jaquiline Florey succumbed to injuries received in the Arena. Rehabilitation Center officials believe that she absorbed poison into her system while preparing a lethal surprise for the runner up. The dose was immediately fatal to the District 2 tribute, but also damaged the winner’s liver beyond repair. Jaquiline, a 18 year old student at the District 3 Institute of Technology succeeded in this year's Games through a cunning strategy of manipulation and well-timed betrayal…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) [Welcome to Nightvale](http://www.welcometonightvale.com) quote. Their advice for dealing with the Vague Yet Menacing Government Agency seemed to me to jibe perfectly with the 2's whistling past the graveyard mentality.


	9. Epilogue

If anyone had been prepared by circumstances to live in District 13, it was Jaqui. The life was somewhat more regimented and formal than she was used to from 3IT, but she was older now and didn’t feel the need to climb around the insides of walls in the middle of the night anymore. It was no fun by herself anyway. Meals were monitored for everyone, so there was no ‘forgetting’ to eat. Complaining about the quality was just gauche, so after some time – about three years according to her mother – she became habituated to eating everything that was put in front of her.

President Coin had spoken to her personally soon after her arrival. It was not hard for them to come to an understanding. If Jaqui kept her head down and did as she was told, she and her mother would live well. Jaqui couldn’t help but notice that this was the exact deal the Capitol offered Victors. Of course, they had lied. Jaqui didn’t like where that logic led, and she’d never been good at leaving well enough alone.

District 13 was always hungry for trained engineers and technicians, so Jaqui and her mother were given accommodations that they came to realize were generous. Jaqui gained a bit of status by convincing the Program to send its cuts to 13, rather than the outer districts. She and Lin e-mailed a few times a year, through carefully anonymous channels. The Capitol had not figured out what happened to Jaqui – technically she was lost while in their custody – so District 3 escaped any reprisals for her actions. Wiress and Beetee were nervous and talking about ‘next steps,’ however.

After the Quarter Quell, when the rebellion started in earnest, Lin joined Jaqui in 13. Wiress had forbidden her to volunteer, communicating that they had a plan to ‘end the whole thing’. (Hopefully not the world, Lin had thought at the time). Beetee arrived after the destruction of the Arena, broken in body and spirit. They were all gutted by Wiress’ death, him more than anyone. He slowly came back to them through work, but he was never truly the same. All his focus was channeled into weapons, traps, and explosives. He’d always been able to reach a calculated brand of ruthlessness, but now it was more passionate, colored by a need for vengeance. Coin loved it, and soon transferred both Lin and Jaqui to work under his supervision.

 

When the Mockingjay ran into difficulties subduing District 2, Beetee and his brain squad were summoned to help. Commander Lyme was on hand when they arrived. She went down the line greeting everyone until she reached Jaqui.

“Not you,” she said with a mild groan, knocking off Jaqui’s grey cap to confirm her identity. “You’re trouble.”

For her part, it was all Jaqui could do not to give Lyme a big hug. Only her interest in not ending up with several sprained body parts held her back. “I’m so happy you’re here! I knew you would see through the Capitol eventually.”

“Shut up and settle in tonight. Tomorrow I’ll show you what we’re up against.” She paused for a beat and then, much to Jaqui’s surprise, gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

“What about me?” Lin asked, in a joking tone, but honestly sounding a little slighted.

“Of you I had no doubt. You were born in the wrong District.”

“She thinks that’s a compliment,” Jaqui stage-whispered to Lin.

“Trouble,” Lyme muttered, walking away.

 

Katniss shamelessly eavesdropped on Beetee’s two new assistants at dinner. She’d never been one to gossip herself, but it was nice to hear familiar names from District 13. Even more so, because both women had sarcastic streaks and liked to mock the same people Katniss felt deserved it. The conversation had taken a turn, though, and they’d moved on to whispering more conspiratorially. Having nothing better to do, Katniss turned her head to listen with her good ear.

“Just tell me you’re not doing one of your obsessive over-reaction things.”

“It’s not an over-reaction. Coin doesn’t trust her, and once the district falls, she will have outlived her usefulness.”

“And it’s not because she’s big and 2y, you know, exactly your type?”

“I do not have a type. And she’s old enough to be my mom.”

“You have no self-awareness, and that didn’t stop you with-“. Lin broke off, finally noticing they were being observed.

“I’m sorry!” said Katniss, laughing, “I’ve been here for two weeks, frustrated and bored. You two are the only ones not talking about formations and ordinance.” Katniss shot Jaqui a questioning look. “Really? Lyme? She lives like a monk from what I’ve seen.”

“No!” Jaqui said, coloring to the roots of her hair.

“A-ha!” Lin crowed.

“She saved my life! She did. I owe her. And I’m really afraid that she’s not going to make it through this rebellion if Coin has anything to say about it. I’m not sure about us either, to be honest.”

“I don’t think Coin has so many supporters she can afford to kill them off,” Katniss protested.

“Just a few. The leaders, like Lyme. Also you, Miss Mockingjay. Unconventional thinkers, like me -”

“Crazy,” Lin translated.

“Hey, I’ve been there eight years and I’ve never been classified as ‘disoriented’. She trusts me more than you. You’re smart, and you could be a leader if you wanted. Double threat.”

Katniss knew she was missing something. “Wait, what happened eight years ago?”

Jaqui calculated what she wanted to reveal. “My friend died. The Capitol lied about it, and that made me furious. I wanted to go on television to yell about it until the walls came crumbling down. I was out of my mind. It didn’t even make any sense. Lyme carried me out of the studio – kicking and screaming – and talked some sense into me.”

Some puzzle pieces were clicking together in Katniss’ mind. Seems like it must have involved the Games. Who had won the 68th Games? She’d just been a little kid then. She hadn’t seen a tape of the victor for her Quarter Quell preparation, and that was odd for such a recent one.

“Now think about it. The Capitol just put Lyme’s best friend back into the arena after swearing for most of her life that he was safe. Then he died. I don’t care how calm she looks; she’s angry. So angry that she’s fine with dying so long as she takes a bunch of them with her. I think it’s my turn to protect her.”

“Good luck carrying her out kicking and screaming,” Lin said.

“Yeah, it’s a problem. I’m working on it.”

“Y’know my mom always said,” Katniss began then shook her head. “Never mind, it’s kind of manipulative.”

The 3s traded a glance.

“I’m not opposed to manipulative.”

“Yeah, that works for me.”

“Well, she said that if you wanted someone to do something and you didn’t think they’d do it for their own good, then act like they’d be doing you a favor. People like to be ahead in who owes who so…it works.”

“She’ll not leave before 2 falls,” Jaqui said, already plotting.

“No, but after, maybe we’ll need an escort to get to 3. It’ll be dangerous out there,” Lin added.

“For sure. And once we get to 3, I know all the boltholes. So, you’re coming?”

“I think I have to. You already owe her a favor. And apparently, you two are going to need a chaperone.”

 

**Epilogue 2 – Post Coin’s Assassination**

“Lin! It’s great to hear your voice. So much infrastructure up here was destroyed it felt like we’d never get the phones back. I miss you.”

“You too, Jaqui. I still can’t believe you’re living in 2. I mean, I can; you’re nuts, but even for you…”

“Two is beautiful – mountains, trees, clear skies. You should give it a try. There’s plenty more rebuilding to do; we need lots of engineers.”

“Three needs engineers too, and knows better how to use them. I’m an indoor girl anyway.” As are you, Lin added mentally. “Are you at least leaving that poor, beleaguered mayor alone?”

“I’m helping her. We have a lot of work to do.”

“You do realize she calls you ‘Trouble’ in official reports?”

“It’s just a nickname. She’s coming around.”

“If you say so. Use your powers of persistence for good, not evil. Not that you ever listen to a word I say.”

“I listen. I chose to go the other way sometimes is all. How are you sleeping?” It wasn’t a non-sequitur. They’d been asking each other that near the end of their conversations for years.

“Crappy,” Lin responded. That was a nice upgrade from wartime responses of Miserable or I’m Not. “You?”

“Acceptable? Yeah, acceptable. It really is nice here. Peaceful.”

“Really? Well, hang on to it then. And don’t do anything stupid.”

“Ckzzz. Oh no! You’re breaking up. I only heard half of that.”

“Jaqui.”

“Gotta go, council meeting. Bye!”

“Jaqui-" but she was gone. _Like it or not, I’m going to 2,_ Lin realized. But first, she was planning a long talk with Beetee about how he dealt with Wiress all those years. So far as she knew, he'd never tried to strangle her. He must have some useful tips.


End file.
